


Unexpected Consequences

by Forgotten_Logic



Series: Welcome to the Kitchen (Appliances) [1]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Implied/Referenced Torture, Multi, Other, Queerplatonic Relationships, gender queer characters, minibots, minicons - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-06
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2020-02-26 23:09:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18726733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Forgotten_Logic/pseuds/Forgotten_Logic
Summary: A group of minicons are taken hostage by a ship of Autobots. It is there that a pair on the inside plot their own escape and aid their new, and maybe slightly hostile, friends.Hello, another OC story I wrote out of anxiety!Tags will update as I update this thing!





	Unexpected Consequences

**Author's Note:**

> I made this half through stress and the other half through talking with a friend of mine. Whomp. Enjoy and consider leaving a comment if you liked :3

“Well, that was smart,” spouted the blender. “How the scrap are we supposed to get out of here?” His servos references to the small confines of the Autobot brig. Small but surprisingly clean… Was that a _splatter_ on the wall?

 _Go to Earth_ they said; _bring back intel_ they said. But the case for the three minicons, they would not be getting out anytime soon even if they did have the ability to get some intel at all. ‘Bots talked but never around them.

“What did you expect? They don’t like us,” a dishwasher, steely in appearance, grumbled. She played with the water features on her servos, one squirting, the other catching.

“WP, that isn’t helpful,” one of the three sighed, their small purple badge glittering in the light. “We need a plan to get out.”

“Painfully optimistic, Vision.”

“I have to be. You two grouches got us here. Now, if we actually did this the way we were told—”

“You honestly think that Soundwave cares what happened to us?” WP stopped spouting her water. Grey optics staring now. “You and I both know that we were sent off because it would make things easier for Megatron—“

“—Lord Megatron!” Snapped Blender, leaning up against the bars.

“Oh, shut up. We are here because of them. They don’t care about us,” WP groused, crossed her short blue arms over her chassis. “They never cared. We have always been their pawns in their game.”

“War is not a game,” Vision sighed, small red optics narrowed and became barely visible. “Mecha die. And _we_ were captured.”

“It’s not like you helped stop it.”

“Blender, please—“ Vision had to pause, raking their black digits along their helm. Their antenna twitching back, if the growing irritation in his field was not enough. “Remember, not everything about you. Stop making it so.”

“Step off your pedestal, glitch. You’re in here too,” came a steamy hiss from Whirlpool. Steam wafting up in a small cloud above her. “We didn’t do this on purpose. You wanted to change the plan.”

“Oh, now everyone is on my case? Great.” He turned toward the two, green optics narrowed into a tight line that mainly was toward WP. “It’s not like you were against it before.” Layers of kibble shifted out, letting out steam and a guttural sound that did not belong. “Everything is always blamed on me.”

“No one is blaming you—“

“She just did, Vis. She just did.”

She got up, arms open and palms up. “Why do you always make me to be the bad guy. We are supposed to be a team.”

There was silence for the first time since their capture, the first time they just stood still. Blender’s field was drawn tight to the lithe frame. WP’s only was layered with irritation and fatigue. Vision was only concerned and waited until their next bout would come.

Blender limped over to the opposite wall from them, where the potential splatter was. Laying down and turning away, he tried for some recharge. And one by one, they each did the same.

* * *

“Shouldn’t we have given them berths?” Asked a little black and white minibot whom was walking with a bulkier mini.

“I don’t think Prowl got that far,” they spoke simply. “It isn’t like we don’t have enough to spare.”

Toaster crossed his arms over the small white chassis. “Big enough ship. You’d think we could share.”

“Toasty, they’re still cons.”

“But even they should have decent arrangements! We are not cruel…” as much as he hoped, it was not something he could prove to himself. “I know we are supposed to be enemies, but they’re like us.”

Red and black servo found itself on a small black shoulder, comforting the shorter of the two. Toaster hadn’t taken it well when he learned that the ship had taken the stowaways and threw them into the least furnished cell they had. He wasn’t sure they even cleaned up since the _last_ prisoner. They didn’t last long there. Something snapped. Ken would not tell Toaster what happened but he could figure out whatever did happen, it was horrible. 

“The others don’t see it that way,” Ken whispered, still hanging on to Toaster’s shoulder. 

“I know.” It should have been physically impossible to have made him sound even smaller than he was. But the tremble to his voice knew that not much had changed for them. They were still used as objects because they were not what the others expected to be listed or ordered to join the crew. “I wish it wasn’t that way though.”

* * *

They three woke up to the harsh clattering against the bars. Vision was the only one to have not jumped at the sharp noise. “Fuel,” sneered a mech whose badge must have glowed a disturbingly bright crimson. They slid the cube underneath, through the trapdoor. 

Once their stomps had faded into the distance, WP tentatively made her way overtook the cube from the floor. “At least they fed us.”

Blender scoffed, watching them take the lid off. “This time. What happens next time?”

WP took a few generous sips but left more than enough to share. She didn’t say anything, knowing that whatever she said would be yet another irrelevant argument. Instead, she handed the cube over to Vision. 

“I mean really,” he continued, turning back to half snear as Vision had his fuel. “They’re gonna kill us. The freaking stain on the wall is energon! They don’t care!” He grew shrill and smacked the back of his fist on the bars, hissing in recoil and yanking his servo away. It left him with a stinging. He held his servo in the other, rubbing it with heated cheeks, sitting with a clatter. “They don’t care—” Gulp “—we are going to die here.”


End file.
